


I Will Wait

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Out of Character Legolas Greenleaf, Romance, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 10:23:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19424041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: When Aragorn meets Legolas for the first time, he is instantly smitten. It is clear that the prince returns his affection, but Aragorn soon realizes that Legolas isn't as happy as he outwardly appears. He's sure he can help if his lover will just let him, but Legolas seems determined to struggle on alone. OOC Legolas. Trigger warnings for self-harm.





	I Will Wait

Aragorn   
Aragorn shifted impatiently. He was eager to get back to his sparring practice, but Elrond had insisted that he was present to greet the representatives from Greenwood. Elladan and Elrohir were considerably more eager – they’d been friends with Prince Legolas for centuries, though Aragorn had yet to meet him.  
The delegation finally came into sight. As they got closer, Aragorn found himself staring. The blond elf in the front must be Legolas – he matched the twins’ descriptions. What the twins had failed to mention was just how stunning Legolas was.   
Of course, all elves were beautiful, but Legolas… he was something else. Aragorn realized his mouth was hanging open, and he snapped it shut.   
Legolas dismounted and embraced the twins, his smile so bright that Aragorn was sure the sun was no comparison.   
“Estel Elrondion, I have heard a lot about you.”  
Legolas was looking at him, and Aragorn stumbled over his words. “It’s – very nice to meet you. Legolas. Prince Legolas, that is. I’ve heard a lot too – about you, I mean. Good things, definitely good.”  
The twins were sniggering, but Legolas was courteous enough to pretend not to notice his awkward stammering. In fact, the prince was eyeing him speculatively, in a way that made Aragorn blush. He knew he wasn’t unattractive, but having Legolas look at him like that sent his mind into overdrive, and he shook his head slightly, pushing away a number of inappropriate fantasies for later perusal.   
“Perhaps Estel could show me to my room?” Legolas suggested.   
Of course, Legolas knew very well where his room was, but Aragorn jumped at the opportunity. “Absolutely! This way, hir nin.”  
“Legolas, please. Lead the way, Estel.”  
Aragorn desperately tried to think of something funny or clever to say as they walked, but his mind came up blank. Fortunately, Legolas didn’t seem to require conversation. The elf hummed softly, smiling as he looked around, seemingly glad just to be here.  
When they got to the prince’s rooms, Legolas gestured Aragorn inside, and the man was all to eager to obey.  
Legolas sat down on the bed, sighing as he pulled his boots off. “Tell me, Estel, are you of age?”  
The question caught him off guard, but he nodded. “Yes, by human standards, since last year.”  
Aragorn suddenly found himself being pulled onto the bed.   
“Then how about you give the prince of Greenwood a proper welcome.”  
He didn’t get a chance to respond, because Legolas’ tongue was in his mouth. Aragorn groaned into the kiss, putting his hand behind Legolas’ neck and pulling him closer.  
They kissed until Aragorn was dizzy, and then they kissed some more. He found himself pulling Legolas’ tunic off, his mind too hazy with pleasure to wonder if this was proper behavior to display toward a prince.   
As the tunic came off, a glimpse of Legolas’ arms brought Aragorn up short. He broke away from the kiss, automatically reaching for the wounds, his healer’s mind kicking in.  
“What happened?” Legolas’ arms were covered in cuts, ranging from light to deep enough that they should have been stitched, though they appeared to have been left to heal on their own.  
“Nothing, Estel. It’s nothing, ignore it.” Legolas pulled him in for another kiss, doing things with his tongue that made Aragorn lose his grip on reality. He filed the injuries away for inquiry for another time – a time when his cock wasn’t aching so fiercely he wondered if he might not just explode from desire.  
Legolas stripped him of his clothes in moments, and when the prince took his pants off, Aragorn realized he was staring again. He couldn’t help it. Legolas’ cock was as beautiful as the rest of him, standing stiffly to attention and leaking pearly white beads of precome.  
“Take me,” Aragorn murmured, bring his eyes to meet the elf’s.  
Legolas groaned, moving to rub their erections together. “Have you ever done this before, Estel?” he asked breathlessly.  
“No,” Aragorn admitted. “You’ll be my first, if you’ll have me.”  
“Oh, I will have you, Elrondion. Lie back.”  
Aragorn squirmed in anticipation as Legolas poured some oil onto his fingers and slowly started inserting them into the man’s ass. The prince shifted the angle a bit and brushed against a spot that made Aragorn’s vision go white with pleasure.  
“Legolas – do that again.”  
Grinning, the prince obliged him until Aragorn was panting and on the brink of coming.   
“I’d say you’re prepared enough. Spread your legs.”  
Oh yes please. Aragorn did as he was told, and Legolas slowly pushed into him.   
It hurt for a moment, but then Legolas started kissing him and stroking his cock, which made Aragorn forget everything else as he was consumed by mind-blowing pleasure. Then, Legolas started moving.  
At first, it was full and strange, but then the prince’s cock brushed against that spot deep inside him, and Aragorn made an extremely undignified noise as he jerked his hips up to meet the movement, desperate for more.  
Legolas kept kissing him as he started pumping steadily into Aragorn’s ass. They were both breathing hard by now, and it didn’t take long before Aragorn’s entire body was clenching as he came. Legolas spilled inside him moments later, leaving them both breathless and sated.  
Aragorn lay still, catching his breath as Legolas pulled out of him. The prince curled up into his side, resting his head on the man’s chest. So he was a cuddler. Aragorn eagerly put his arms around the elf, inhaling his delicious scent.   
“You know,” Legolas murmured, “I think that’s the best welcome to Imladris I’ve ever received.  
The two of them chuckled, and lay in comfortable silence for a while. Aragorn thought they must have both drifted off, because when he opened his eyes again, the sun had jumped in the sky.   
Legolas’ eyes were still glazed over in elven sleep. Aragorn’s gaze was drawn to the prince’s arms. Some of those cuts were recent and looked like they needed attention. He slowly extracted himself from Legolas’ embrace, and managed to creep to the healing halls and raid some supplies without being discovered.  
When he returned, Legolas was still asleep, so Aragorn settled down to wait. Just under an hour later, the prince blinked sleepily.   
“Hello.” He pulled Aragorn in for a kiss, one the man eagerly returned. He regretfully pulled back before he could become too distracted.  
“I need to see to your arms. I’ve got healing supplies here.”  
Legolas’ face suddenly became closed off. “I’m fine, Estel.”  
“If you’re prefer Elrond –”  
“No,” Legolas said quickly. “I don’t need a healer.”  
“Some of those wounds need stitches,” Aragorn pressed.   
“I’m fine. I don’t need it.”  
He sighed. Maybe Legolas would trust him enough to help at some point, but clearly today was not that day. “How did it happen anyway?”  
The prince shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Shall we go down to dinner?”  
“Of course.”  
Aragorn had to endure the twins’ sniggering and raised eyebrows when he and Legolas came to Elrond’s private dining hall together, but he was more interested in finding out about the prince’s injuries and why he was so reluctant to talk about them.  
After they’d eaten, he pulled his brothers aside, waiting for Legolas to retire to his chambers before bringing up his worries.   
“El, Legolas is injured, but he won’t let me help him. He won’t even tell me how he got hurt.”  
Elladan sighed sadly. “You mean his arms?”  
Aragorn nodded. “You knew about that?”  
“He’s been doing it for as long as we’ve known him.” Elrohir shook his head. “Ada has tried to get him to talk about it, but Legolas isn’t interested.”  
“He’s been doing it to himself? Why?”  
“People do that kind of thing for different reasons,” Elrohir explained. “As for why Legolas does, I have no idea. He’s such a cheerful, happy person, I never would have thought he’d need something like that – but then, perhaps the cutting is the reason behind some of his cheerfulness. It certainly gives a rush, from what I’ve heard.”  
Aragorn wandered back to his bed chambers a short time later, deep in thought. It was clear that Legolas wasn’t as happy as he outwardly appeared, if he felt the need to hurt himself. It was also clear that the prince didn’t want to accept help or even talk about it.  
It was hard, but he supposed he didn’t have much choice other than to accept Legolas’ boundaries and hope that with time, the prince would trust him enough to let him in.

***

“Show me, meleth nin.”  
Legolas shook his head, his mouth set in the familiar stubborn line Aragorn was coming to hate.  
He tried again. “I can see the wounds bleeding through your tunic sleeve, Legolas. At least let me stitch them, saes.”  
It had been two months since Legolas had come to Imladris, but the prince still refused to talk about his cuts or even let Aragorn treat them. It was getting harder and harder every day. Aragorn was rapidly falling in for Legolas, and watching his love hurt himself was increasingly horrible each time it happened.  
“Fine,” Legolas sighed, his shoulders slumped. He stopped struggling and allowed Aragorn to tenderly roll back his sleeves. Not wanting to break the fragile thread of trust his lover had extended, Aragorn treated the wounds in silence, bandaging them up when he was done.  
“Come here.”  
Legolas eagerly went into his arms, settling into his familiar position curled up against Aragorn’s side. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but Aragorn couldn’t help it. The words just came out.  
“Tell me why you hurt yourself, meleth nin. I can’t bear to watch you in pain. Maybe I can help.”  
Legolas stiffened in his arms. “I…”  
It happened so fast that Aragorn could barely track it. Legolas suddenly twisted out of his grip and bounded toward the window. The prince leapt into the nearest tree and swiftly disappeared. Aragorn was left to ponder the last expression he’d seen on his lover’s face: panic.  
He knew Legolas well enough by now to know that it would take at least a few hours for the prince to return, so Aragorn had time. He hurried through the halls to his father’s study.   
Elrond looked up as he came in. “Estel, are you alright?”  
“It’s Legolas, Ada,” Aragorn said sadly. “I just don’t understand. Why does he keep hurting himself? Why can’t I help him?”  
Elrond sighed and came around the desk, leading Aragorn to a chair. “It is not your fault, ion nin. Legolas won’t let himself be helped.”  
“Why, though? I know he cares for me like I do for him, but he can’t seem to trust me with this.”  
“I have tried and failed to get him to talk to me about it, but I can tell you my theory.”  
“Please, Ada.”  
“Legolas’ mother died when he was very young by elf standards. Thranduil was stricken with grief and unable to care for his son as he would have at any other time. Legolas never learned to deal with that pain and loss. I think that it became so overwhelming, he started pushing all pain away rather than showing it to anyone letting himself past it. That’s why he needs to cut himself – it’s the only release he has.”  
“But he has me!”  
“I know, Estel. You are doing very well. There is nothing you can do to rush this. Just keep giving him time, and hope that Legolas comes to trust you enough to help him. He is hurting and needs you to be patient with him.”  
“I know,” Aragorn sighed. “I will wait, I’ll do whatever he needs… it’s just hard.”  
Elrond pulled him into a gentle hug. “I know, ion nin, I know.”  
They stayed there for several minutes as Aragorn soaked up the comfort of his father’s embrace. When he finally moved away, rejuvenated, the man made his way back to Legolas’ chambers. It was two hours before the prince returned. When he did, Aragorn was waiting for him.  
“Legolas.” He got up and wrapped his arms around his lover. “I was worried about you.”  
“I’m sorry, Estel,” Legolas mumbled. “I just… panicked.”  
“I know. It’s alright.”  
“You deserve someone better than me.”  
Aragorn pulled back, forcing Legolas to look at him. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you, no matter how long it takes you to trust me. I will wait, meleth nin. You are worth it.”  
He was shocked to see Legolas’ eyes slowly filling with tears. Aragorn had never seen his lover cry, or even get upset. Legolas was almost always either cheerful or withdrawn. Occasionally annoyed, but never sad.  
“Come, lie down with me.” He pulled his lover into bed, sighing in pleasure as Legolas curled into his side. Aragorn felt like he could stay like this with the prince forever. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he coaxed.   
“I – this – it just feels… too close,” Legolas admitted. “I – I think I’m falling in love with you, Estel.”  
Despite Legolas’ distress, Aragorn couldn’t help smiling. “Then we are equal, because I am falling love with you too, meleth nin.”  
“I’ve just never let someone in like this.” Legolas couldn’t seem to meet his gaze, and Aragorn started stroking his lover’s hair as the prince spoke. “It’s – overwhelming. I don’t know that I can keep hold of everything with you so close.”  
“You do not need to keep hold of everything, Legolas. You can let me in. Show me your pain. I will not judge you for it.”  
A wetness on his tunic told Aragorn that the prince’s tears had finally spilled over. He hugged Legolas close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s ok,” he whispered. “Let me in.”  
Legolas let out a ragged sob and his arms suddenly tightened around Aragorn’s middle. “H-hurts,” he gasped between sobs. “Don’t – w-want to – c-cut any – anymore – b-but c-can’t – s-stop –”  
“I will help you,” Aragorn promised. “I am here for you. You don’t need to express your pain with a blade anymore.”  
At this, Legolas seemed to lose any vestiges of control he’d been holding onto. Aragorn gently rocked his lover as the prince utterly fell apart in his arms. Seeing such anguish laid bare hurt his heart, but he would certainly rather witness it this way than as scars on Legolas’ arms.  
Legolas curled himself tighter into Aragorn’s side, shaking in misery, gasping for breath as he wept a river of tears. Aragorn kissed his brow, offering what comfort he could.  
When the prince’s violent sobs had calmed somewhat, he spoke. “Talk to me, meleth nin,” he urged. “Tell me what is hurting you.”  
Legolas tensed in his arms, and Aragorn immediately started stroking his hair again. “I… I don’t think I can,” the prince admitted. “It’s just too much… I’m sorry, Estel.”  
Aragorn gently tilted the prince’s head up, looking into his wet blue eyes. “It’s ok, Legolas. You’ve shown me more of your pain tonight than you ever have before. If you can’t do more than that right now, if you can’t put words to it yet, I will wait.”  
Legolas nodded, his tears picking up again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  
“You have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, and I only want you to be happy. However long that takes, I will stay by your side.”  
Legolas buried his head in the man’s shoulder. “Thank you, Estel,” he whispered. “I – can I give you something?”  
“Of course.”  
The prince wriggled a little to get his hand into his tunic pocket and pulled out a short, sharp knife. Aragorn took it reverently, knowing how much trust it must take for Legolas to offer him this.   
“I may ask for it back,” Legolas admitted. “But maybe it’ll be easier not to cut if you have it. I – I can try.”  
“That’s all I ask.” Aragorn gave him a sweet, tender kiss. “I will keep this safe for you, as long as you need.”  
Legolas just nodded as he squirmed closer to Aragorn, his arms and legs wrapped around the man like a squid. Aragorn smiled and mirrored the motion, pulling his lover as close as he could and snugging the blanket up around their chins. 

Thranduil  
Thranduil was in a towering temper, and he had been ever since the messenger arrived. How dare Elrond’s son ravish the prince of Greenwood? When he got his hands on the young man, Estel was going to find himself locked in the dungeons for the duration of his stay.  
The guards shot anxious glances at their king as Thranduil waited by the gate. Estel and Legolas were talking softly, their horses riding so close that the beasts’ shoulders were touching.  
That wasn’t what caught Thranduil’s attention. Legolas was wearing a short-sleeved tunic. Thranduil hadn’t seen his son wear a tunic like that in centuries. His eyes were automatically drawn to the prince’s arms. He gaped at what he saw.  
There were scars, of course, but no new cuts in what looked like at least several weeks. What had happened? Thranduil had been at his wit’s end about Legolas hurting himself, had tried everything in his power, and now after a few months at Imladris, his son had suddenly stopped? Why? Elrond and the twins had already tried their best to help him. Nothing had changed there, except…  
Estel.  
Thranduil’s eyes snapped back to the human and flitted between Estel and Legolas. Legolas was smiling gently, and even as Thranduil watched, the man turned Legolas’ arm slightly, examining one of the deeper cuts that looked to be a few weeks into healing, but still made a bright pink line on the prince’s pale skin.  
Though he couldn’t hear what they were saying, Thranduil watched carefully as Estel made a comment, and Legolas nodded. Estel squeezed the prince’s hand, and Legolas stared at the man with eyes that were more open and trusting than Thranduil had seen them since the prince was a child.  
What had this human done to his son?  
Whatever it was, Thranduil would be eternally grateful.  
He saw the anxiety on Legolas’ face as the pair finally came through the gates, and hurried forward. Thranduil pulled his son into a hug. “I’m glad you’re home, ion nin.”  
“It’s good to see you, Ada. Ada… this is…”  
“Estel.” Thranduil embraced the man more tightly than he had Legolas. “I am so glad to meet you.”  
Everyone from Legolas to the guards to the servants looked utterly flabbergasted. They’d been expecting the king to have Estel flogged – and indeed, that had been on Thranduil’s mind – but he could never hurt someone who was so obviously good for his son.  
“T-Thank you, hir nin,” Estel stuttered. “It is very good to meet you too.”  
Thranduil pulled back. “I hope you know that you have set your eyes on a high prize – the prince of Greenwood, no less. If you want his hand, you will have to gain your own throne first.”  
Estel and Legolas exchanged a look full of tenderness that Thranduil didn’t quite understand, but he could tell there must be some history behind it.  
Estel turned back to the king, smiling. “Legolas is worth fighting for, hir nin, no matter how long it takes me to gain the throne of Gondor. I will wait.”  
Thranduil clasped the man’s shoulder and put an arm around his son. “Come, then, let us have dinner together! There is much I still need to learn about you, Estel.”  
Legolas and Estel exchanged an incredulous look, but followed without protest. Thranduil glanced speculatively at the human. Perhaps he had underestimated the race of men, or maybe this one was simply different. Either way, Legolas’ smooth arms, unmarred by scabs or fresh blood, were worth the world to him.   
Thranduil would do whatever it took to see that this human was protected within his realm, and perhaps even beyond that. He had a good feeling about Estel, and as any of his subjects would readily agree, the elven king was seldom wrong.


End file.
